


The End

by InfamousRowe



Category: Original Work
Genre: ?? - Freeform, Apocalypse, Based on a Dream, But also not me, Character Death, Not Beta Read, POV First Person, Self-Insert, Suicide, Vague Descriptions, adding it just in case, again kind of, it’s me. Cuz it was my dream, kind of??, no names in the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 11:01:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23850106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfamousRowe/pseuds/InfamousRowe
Summary: Short apocalyptic story based on a dream I had. Probably had the dream cuz of the shit show we’re dealing with atm.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 2





	The End

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t certain if the suicide tag would be correct for how it ended, but I added it just in case. Let me know if y’all don’t think it applies.  
> P.S. I didn’t really beta it so there’s probably a shit ton of fuck ups.

There were few of us left. We were all hidden in an underground bunker with very few lights, and those that we did have were emergency lights that flickered intermittently. We didn’t know if anyone else survived. We were all that we knew. Luckily we had a few scientists in our group. Our daily meeting was in progress, those three scientists standing on a small podium in front of the group. We used to be a hundred strong. We were slowly dying out. Food was hard to grow and fresh air was almost impossible to create.

“We need a volunteer,” said one of the scientists. She was the leader. A very intelligent young woman born after we were trapped in the underground bunker. “We’ve been doing as many tests as we could.” She explained. “Our limited hazmat suits are wearing out quickly. We need someone who is willing to go outside. Someone who is willing to test the surface. Without a suit.”

I could see many people hesitate at that. Before that ending sentence many were willing.

“My team has seen a marked improvement over the years. But our equipment is getting old. We need new ways to test it. New ways to figure out how to beat it.” She looked over the crowd. Our eyes caught.

“I’ll do it.” I said, my wrinkly hand slowly raising. I didn’t have family any longer. They died either at the beginning of all of this, or from the radiation poisoning after years of going untreated - not from lack of trying on the scientists part, there just wasn’t the right tools for it at the time. I was lucky that I had not gotten poisoned before we moved to the bunker all those years ago. I was also the oldest out of those in the bunker at the moment.

The lead scientist smiled at me. “Thank you. If you could meet us at our post tomorrow morning, we’d like to get the testing started.”

I nodded, and the group dispersed.

The next day I went to where the scientists did their research. A small area with aging equipment, with test tubes and vials and all other sorts of scientific paraphernalia.

“Thank you for coming.” The lead scientist said. “We want to start this as soon as possible, if you’re ready.”

“I am.” I made my way closer and the scientists started hooking me up with all sorts of equipment.

“For readings,” the lead woman said. “So we can see how the surface affects you.”

I just nod.

“Alright.” Another says after they’ve finished sticking me with needles and such. “Follow us.”

I do as he says, following them to an air tight entrance.

There’s two sets of doors, one leading outside then a space between, and another leading into the bunker. A vestibule, I remember suddenly. I learned the name of it when I was a kid at my first job.

“All you have to do is walk through.” The leader says, her hand on my bony shoulder. “We’ll be monitoring your vitals in here, and we’ll let you know if something goes wrong.” She tapped her hip, where a handheld radio was stationed. It was the same for me.

“And I’ll let you know if anything feels wrong to me.” I responded, remembering what they wanted me to describe to them.

“Thank you again. This will be a huge help for all of us.”

I give her a small smile, my eyes already tired. Then I walk through the first set of doors. They close behind me with a hiss, locking any possible radiation that will come in once the next set opens from entering the bunker.

It takes a minute, but they do open. I have to squint at the blinding light. It’s been decades since I saw the sky, and even longer since I saw the sun.

I shiver as I step out and the second set of doors close behind me. It’s colder than I remember, but we’ve had regulated temperatures in the bunker for as long as I was in there. I start walking. The ground beneath my feet is firm, but not in the hard packed way the cement in the bunker was. It’s softer, and it feels nice. It really has been so long.

The radio is silent. Seems like nothing is going wrong so far. I don’t feel like I’m slowly being poisoned, but how would I know if I was? I spend a long time out there - or what feels like a long time - when I hear a crackle from the radio.

“-u hear me?”

I take it off my hip. My arthritis makes it hard to press the button but I manage. “Is something wrong?” I ask.

“We’re getting elevated-” a few crackles interrupt her, “should head back.”

I glance around the landscape. The greens of the grass, the blue of the sky, the warmth of the sun - even in this cold month - on my skin. “It’s too late,” I say. I can feel it. “You guys wouldn’t be able to do anything for me, yeah?”

There’s a moment of silence. “We’re not sure, but-”

I cut her off this time. “I think I’ll stay out then. You’ll get more data this way, right?”

“We would,” she reluctantly agrees. “But you don’t have to do this.”

“I do.” I answer. “I’ll make my way closer to the bunker so it’ll be easier for you guys later on.” And I do. I turn around and start heading back. But I still stay a good distance. I manage to get my aching knees to let me sit down at the edge of a small grove of trees. My hands rest on the dirt beneath me, fingers digging into the soil. I feel the dirt under my nails and it reminds me of my youth. When my sisters were alive, when I had my friends next to me. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the tree I’m leaning against.

“Thank you for this.” I say quietly, breathing in the air slowly.

I relax.

And let go.


End file.
